“Age is just a number,” says the well-worn adage. But is it a number you care about, or one you tend (or try) to ignore?
They say age is just a number,
but it’s really one mark after another on the wall
with each day that goes by without you,
wondering when you’ll return – if you’ll return at all
So I’ll sit here, and watch the time pass me by
wondering where I went so wrong
How could I ever have let your love die?
It’s been so long now since I’ve been strong
But time, it cares not a worry,
it cares not for the lines it grooves on my face
it waits for no one, not even for our lost love,
not even a trace